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As he ascended the carpeted staircase with a leisurely gait, Sylvian couldn't help but admire the captivating perspective he was granted. Striding purposefully ahead of him, her paws bouncing deftly from step to step, was his mate, a feral she-wolf named Independence. A pair of gossamer, white wings sprouted just below her shoulders, bouncing airily with the jostling movements of her body. Her coat was predominantly charcoal-colored, with streaks of white gracing her limbs and underside, and tips of black highlighting her ears and tail -- but like any male with a robust sex drive, the silver fox's attention was drawn not to lustrous splendor of her shiny coat, but to the alluring spectacle of her bare backside.

Indie's haunches swayed enticingly from side to side with the momentum of her forward progress, her bushy tail hoisted just high enough to allow a glimpse of her genitals, much to the delight of the salivating vulpine behind her. Nestled prominently between those furry cheeks was the spade-shaped orifice of her vulva, its black color contrasting beautifully with the snow-white patches of fur surrounding it; partially obscured beneath a tuft of butt-fluff, Sylvian could also discern the puckered ring of her delicate tailhole. And yet, despite the fervent bestial instinct flaring within Sylvian's mind, urging him to pounce upon that vulnerable rump and pump it full of his virile seed... something else nagged persistently at his subconscious.

It wasn't the first time he'd been distracted by burgeoning sexual impulses -- in fact, such situations had already led to some rather fantastic mating displays between the couple. On one occasion, Sylvian had pinned his mate to the bed and clamped his jaws down upon the scruff of her neck, aggressively riding her as he penetrated her tailhole with a series of deep, frenzied thrusts. He never would have been able to embrace those dominant tendencies without Indie's encouragement. Sylvian considered himself fortunate that his mate demonstrated a supportive attitude and a willingness to explore new endeavors outside her comfort zone. Sometimes he wondered, though... how much would she be willing to accept?

Indie padded up to the half-closed bedroom door and nudged it such that it creaked ajar, scampering inside and jumping effortlessly onto the sprawling bed situated in the middle of the room. Sylvian, meanwhile, still ambled absent-mindedly along the hallway, so lost in thought that he scarcely realized that the furry rump he'd been admiring had disappeared around the corner of the doorway. Upon entering the bedroom, the silver fox swiftly perceived of a pair of luminous eyes surveying him inquisitively from the bed; Indie had adopted a seductive stance, positioning herself such that her hindquarters faced the doorway, her naughty bits now fully on display as she hiked her tail up submissively.

If it hadn't already been blatantly obvious from the eagerness she demonstrated, Sylvian would have immediately recognized that his mate was in heat based on the puffiness of her vulva. Her exposed sex glistened in the soft light of the nearby lamp as moisture collected between its swollen folds, simply aching to be claimed by the thick, bulbous rod of a male canine. Indie typically exhibited a healthy libido regardless of the season, but it had only taken the slightest provocation in this instance (Sylvian admiring her backside as he padded past her in the kitchen) for her to bolt for the bedroom, leaving an amused fox trailing in her wake. Perhaps only physical bondage could keep a fertile bitch from extinguishing the aching fire in her loins... which, naturally, they had also experimented with a little in the past.

Sylvian halted a few yards from the bedside, still enshrouded in inner turmoil, yet cognizant enough of the brazenly intimate display laid out before him to appreciate the situation. Was it worth interrupting this glorious spectacle to vocalize his personal fantasies? He could just as easily leap onto the bed, mount that tantalizing tail from behind, and drive his shaft up to the hilt in his mate's dripping tunnel. In fact, the mere thought was inciting a fresh spark of arousal within the silver fox, his ruby-red tip inching forth from the confines of its furry sheath. A dollop of pre-cum coalesced at its apex, lingering there momentarily before falling to the carpet with a faint_plop!_ Yes, perhaps that would be a sufficient compromise -- after all, he couldn't justifiably complain about having a warm hole to breed...

"What took you so long?" Indie teased from atop the bed, donning a playful smirk. "Are you going to join me up here?" The female wolf punctuated this remark by wiggling her hindquarters playfully, tail swaying back and forth like a cobra hovering pendulously its pray, as if she yearned to coax her mate onto the bed by hypnotizing him.

"Oh--" Sylvian murmured distractedly, blinking as he attempted to regain focus upon the present situation. "...Yeah. Of course." As he responded aloud to his mate, he inwardly vowed to cast away his curiosities, at least for time being. There would be more suitable chances to experiment in the future; for now, Indie's immediate needs took precedence. Sylvian would satisfy her heat by adopting the role of a dominant stud, one who could quench the she-wolf's lust by giving her tender orifice the thorough pounding it required. His own secret passions weren't urgent by any means, and though he'd been plagued by these intrusive reveries with increasing frequency, he supposed they could be shifted to the back burner until a more appropriate occasion emerged.

Without further ado, the fox reared up on his haunches and placed both forepaws upon the bedsheets, preparing to launch himself off of the carpeted floor and onto the elevated surface of the bed. Indie, however, had gathered that Sylvian was behaving oddly -- especially for a male canine presented with a such a blunt invitation. She couldn't recall any instance in which Sylvian_hadn't_ been thrilled to oblige the enticing offer of a flagged tail. His agenda was fairly predictable (he typically serviced her orally before proceeding to stuff her full of his throbbing knot), unless he was in the mood for something a little more experimental. Was that the reason he appeared so distracted? Perhaps he was craving a more unconventional experience tonight...

Indie raised a paw abruptly, signaling to the silver fox that he should refrain from leaping onto the bed. She wasn't comfortable with the prospect of her mate stifling his feelings, especially since they had historically maintained a rock-solid standard of communication. It wouldn't feel right diving headfirst into a sexual encounter without first dispelling her concerns. "...Is something wrong?" Indie queried, her gaze fixated on her mate's face. "It's okay if something is, you can tell me," she hastily added for good measure. The brief flicker of surprise that flitted across Sylvian's visage revealed unmistakably that the wolf's intuition had been correct.

"I, um... I guess, yeah," Sylvian admitted sheepishly, warmth flooding to his face as he gazed at his beloved mate over the edge of the bed. He shifted uncomfortably, compelled to break eye contact due to the embarrassment and discomfort welling up inside him -- but he didn't want Indie to perceive that as a manifestation of distrust. Sylvian reminded himself that his mate had demonstrated an unwavering commitment toward understanding and facilitating his interests in the past, and she'd given him no reason to believe that she'd respond any differently in this situation. "How did you know?" he asked conversationally, not particularly eager to discuss his suppressed emotions just yet.

"For one thing, you're not on top of me right now," Indie smirked, swishing her tail erratically across the sheets. "This is like the least excited you've ever been to have sex. Just a minute ago, you were practically drooling on me in the kitchen... What's going on?" She was careful to instill a tangible note of concern into her tone; she didn't wish to appear accusatory, after all.

Sylvian glanced at her rear involuntarily, and was slightly disappointed to observe that her tail was no longer flagged, but instead had been lowered to obscure her puffy vulva from view. "It's... it's not that I'm not excited," he reasoned delicately, struggling to commandeer the appropriate vocabulary. "You have no idea. Being on top of you sounds_great_. I just..." He broke off, staring helplessly at Indie as if he yearned for her to complete the statement on his behalf.

Indie frowned, clearly a little unsettled by her mate's obvious distress. Sylvian didn't often wear his emotions on his metaphorical sleeve, but he rarely demonstrated such reluctance to confide in her. She couldn't imagine what could bother him enough that it would render him speechless_and_ cause him to shy away from an impending mating frenzy. "Well something has to be wrong," she posited, gazing at the fox quizzically. "Did something happen? Are you feeling sick?"

The silver fox sighed and glanced away, clearly wrestling with some tumultuous inner conflict. He remained silent for a few pregnant moments, struggling to muster the courage to elaborate -- but it was blatantly apparent that he wouldn't be able to prolong the discussion without upsetting his mate. "I'm fine," he relented, a palpable twinge of frustration clearly evident in his tone. "I'm--I'm just... curious about something. Like I might want to try it, but... I don't know..." he trailed off self-consciously, absentmindedly skimming his paw along the bedsheets. "It's kind of weird," he added, as if to justify his hesitance.

This vague confession only baffled the she-wolf even further. "Okay... How 'weird', exactly?" she questioned, one eyebrow arched dramatically to showcase her confusion. "You know you can tell me these things. I'm not going to judge you, Sylvian."

Uncomfortable as he was, this explicit assertion of trust helped to cast away the fox's nerves. "Alright, alright. So..." he prompted, returning Indie's gaze with a slightly sturdier foundation of confidence to draw upon. He was reassured to discover that her facial expression reflected both compassion and concern.

"The other day, I heard a guy -- a German shepherd at the park -- referring to some stuff that he and his mate had done. He seemed like he loved it..." Sylvian described, the corners of his muzzle twisting into a vaguely amused smile. "It sounds really weird to me, but--but I don't know, kind of appealing at the same time. And it stuck with me and I've been thinking about it a lot," the fox confessed sheepishly. He was beginning to ramble off-focus as he delved deeper into his explanation. "So I started thinking, what if we tried it? But like I said, it's a bit weird, and... I wanted to suggest it earlier, but I got nervous, and--and, well... You seemed so eager to have sex that I didn't want to ruin the mood by--"

"Are you ever going to actually tell me what this 'weird' thing is?" Indie interrupted, once again adopting that telltale smirk she often utilized to playfully tease her mate. "Or is that the punchline at the end?"

This elicited a brief chuckle from the fox, who was beginning to regain some courage as a result of Indie's humorous demeanor. Trading witty banter was one of the methods by which they kept their relationship healthy and lighthearted. "Okay, fine. It's, um..." Sylvian fortified his resolve by inhaling deeply, then finally urged himself to expel the secret that had been prodding mercilessly at his conscience for days.

"Butt stuff," he divulged matter-of-factly.

Indie's blank stare contrasted strikingly with the scandalized reaction he'd been anticipating. She opened her mouth briefly as if to utter a surprised remark, closed it just as quickly, then managed to simply echo, "...Butt stuff?" with a skeptical inflection. When Sylvian did nothing save return her gaze with a remarkably self-conscious expression, she elaborated on her perplexity. "Sweetie, we've done anal plenty of times before. What's so weird about it?"

"No no, not like that," Sylvian insisted, his lips contorting into a vague grimace. "I mean, you know... with_my_ butt." He craned his neck to the side and gestured feebly toward his hindquarters, as if to further emphasize his point.

Indie couldn't help it; the combination of her mate's innocent-yet-antagonized expression, paired with the abrupt realization that they'd been dancing around an enormous misunderstanding, incited a snort of laughter. She swiftly stifled her mirth by clamping her paws cross her muzzle, so as not to offend Sylvian by mocking his self-inflicted predicament. So this was why he'd been so reluctant to come clean! Sylvian hadn't been fantasizing about some grotesquely bizarre fetish; he was simply embarrassed to appear overly fascinated about a taboo topic.

The she-wolf regained her composure enough to provide an encouraging response to her mate, who was looking thoroughly mortified, as if he'd accidentally blurted out that he had masterminded a gruesome murder. "That's not weird at all!" Indie rebutted, a mixture of relief and amusement washing across her features. "Plenty of guys like being on the receiving end of anal. You shouldn't feel embarrassed about it."

"They--they do?" the fox responded meekly, still somewhat flustered. "I mean, maybe if they're gay, but I just... I didn't think someone like me was supposed to be into that kind of thing."

"Of course guys can be interested in it," Indie admonished her mate. "Anal feels good no matter what sex you're attracted to." She swished her tail back and forth across the bedsheets. "I liked it when we've done it. And you said that German shepherd really enjoyed it."

"He's gay though," Sylvian reasoned. "He's been with another male for as long as I've known him, I just figured it was part of their relationship." He shrugged nonchalantly, reminiscing about the conversation he'd overheard at the park. "I dunno... The way he described it sounded great, and--and kind of sexy. But I thought it would be weird to, you know... actually want to do it. Guys don't usually like the idea of someone messing around under their tail." He met Indie's gaze with a vaguely pleading expression, as if yearning for further reassurance that his curiosity was, indeed, nothing out of the ordinary.

"You do know where the male G-spot is located, don't you?" Indie replied, her radiant silver eyes twinkling in the lamplight. "I can't speak from experience, but I've heard prostate stimulation feels amazing. I'd be surprised if you_didn't_ like it."

Sylvian nodded in confirmation. "Yeah, that's what the German shepherd was talking about. Prostate stimulation. He mentioned that they were using toys. And, uh..." He paused as if uncertain whether he should continue. "He, um... he said he came from just the toys. Paws-free. He didn't even have to touch himself or have his mate do it."

"See! It feels good," came Indie's enthusiastic response. She was determined to establish that there was absolutely nothing strange or shameful about a male appreciating a little healthy anal stimulation. "I've heard prostate stimulation is an amazing experience. It gives you a really powerful orgasm."

"Yeah..." Sylvian's tone made it evident that he wasn't wholly convinced. "It's just feels so...submissive," he responded doubtfully. "Like it's just not something I'm supposed to do..." The silver fox was having difficulties accepting that it was perfectly normal for a male to enjoy his tailhole being penetrated, regardless of sexual orientation. After all, such acts were typically stigmatized as weak or effeminate. The male canine had a dominant role to perpetuate -- one in which he topped his female with vitality, pumping her full of his fertile seed as he thrust aggressively into her tight hole. His current dilemma did not align particularly well with that image.

"You don't have to conform to stereotypes," Indie countered. "If it brings you pleasure, who cares what others think?"

"Well, I care what_you_ think," Sylvian retorted, a little crossly. "I thought you'd be disgusted by it, or... or just weirded out. I know you like it when I'm on top and -- you know -- being rough and dominant. Because that's just what guys do for their mates." He gave a faint, almost sentimental smile at this, but quickly reverted back to a timid demeanor. "I figured you'd be uncomfortable if I, um... if I wanted the same thing." He gave a deep breath, then rattled off the ultimatum with which he'd been struggling the most: "I guess sometimes... I want to be submissive too."

Sylvian's face had flushed again, and he stubbornly averted his gaze from the wolf before him, staring across the edge of the bed self-consciously. This was the crux of his crisis; it was difficult enough to concede that 'butt stuff' sounded unexpectedly appealing, but professing that he fantasized about being the subordinate partner? It brazenly defied the feral instincts ingrained into his blood, the very same impulses that had spurred him to pounce upon his mate's vulnerable rump only moments earlier. Simply vocalizing it made him yearn to bury his muzzle in the bedsheets and never resurface.

Indie leaned over the edge of the bed and planted an affectionate lick on Sylvian's nose, causing him to glance back toward her in surprise. "Look," she began, her voice resonating both firm conviction and empathetic understanding as she maintained eye contact. "Anal isn't for everyone. There are gay males out there that don't even like it. But there are plenty of males -- regardless of which sex they're attracted to -- that_do_. There's nothing to be ashamed of, I promise. It's more common than you think."

"...You're sure? You won't think I'm weird?" Sylvian inquired with the faintest smidgeon of apprehension still lingering in his tone.

"Absolutely sure," Indie clarified adamantly. "If you want to try it, that's completely fine with me. I don't care if you act dominant, submissive... whatever. I love you for_who you are_." She placed a greater degree of emphasis on that final statement in order to communicate her steadfast support of her partner's personal interests.

Though still burdened by a sliver of doubt, Sylvian's eyes sparkled with a distinct expression of gratitude and admiration. His mate had always demonstrated a supportive disposition toward his various quirks, but he'd expected this particular instance to be the straw that broke the camel's back, so to speak. To the bashful fox, being on the receiving end of anal experimentation was undoubtedly the most outlandish fetish he'd ever suggested fulfilling -- but he was beginning to realize that perhaps his inhibitions had been grossly misplaced. Indie hadn't batted an eye at his suggestion. In fact, she'd been positively encouraging.

"Now get up on the bed with me, you silly fox," the winged wolf quipped, shifting herself sideways to make room for both canines to comfortably occupy the mattress.

Sylvian complied by propelling himself upward with a mighty thrust of his muscular haunches, landing effortlessly upon the raised platform. As his paws thumped onto the silky sheets, he was immediately buffeted by a potent scent that assaulted his nostrils with gusto. Having been thoroughly distracted, he had nearly forgotten about his mate being in heat; now that he'd joined Indie on the bed, it was impossible to ignore. He gazed pointedly at her rump, observing that she'd lifted her tail enough to once again expose her glistening vulva. He couldn't help but salivate profusely as he processed the sweet, musky odor emanating from her backside.

"So, um... What now?" Sylvian queried uncertainly, perched awkwardly beside his mate, who was observing him with a hint of amusement as she lay sprawled out across the sheets. Despite the progress they'd achieved during their enlightening conversation, Sylvian would have absolutely no qualms with reverting back to his original target. Now that he stood within close proximity of his mate's backside, the enticing aroma of a fertile female was once again casting a foggy blanket of arousal across his consciousness. His senses flared with that familiar, overwhelming urge to breed her ripe passage -- to stuff her tender orifice full of his bulging knot, to flood her receptive womb with a torrent of viscous, burning seed...

Sylvian shook himself off in an attempt to chase away his fixation on his mate's rear end. Though a good, old-fashioned mating frenzy would be a perfectly enjoyable compromise, Indie had explicitly stated that she was willing to entertain the fox's intimate fantasies. Might as well take advantage of the present opportunity; if he shied away from embracing his passions when given a direct offer, he may never muster the courage to go through with it. Behaving submissively would be difficult, and perhaps somewhat embarrassing, but... deep down, Sylvian knew irrevocably that he wanted it. To reject it would be a disservice to himself and his loving mate.

As if eavesdropping upon the fox's thoughts, Indie vocalized her intentions with an air of finality: "I'm going to show you that it's okay to be submissive." Her face once again wore that playful, mischievous smirk. "...And you're going to love it. Trust me."

A swift appraisal of her facial expression made it strikingly evident that she intended to make good on that promise. Sylvian responded with the briefest of nods, still a bit anxious at the prospect of being dominated by a female, but sufficiently convinced that it would be a worthwhile experience.

"Lay down on your back," Indie commanded firmly, rising abruptly to stand on all fours alongside her mate. When Sylvian adopted a surprised expression and remained standing, Indie reiterated her directive, this time with added clarification. "On your back, sweetie. If you're going to be the submissive one here, you're going to have to do as I say."

"Oh, uh... right," Sylvian chuckled nervously, inwardly chiding himself for his sluggish reaction. He hadn't anticipated that Indie would transition into the dominant role so seamlessly; her initial command had caught him unawares. He mentally noted to routinely remind himself of their swap, lest he inadvertently break character by forgetting to defer to Indie. If he was going to engage in submissive behavior, he intended to do it correctly.

Without further ado, the silver fox trotted over to the approximate midpoint of the bed, plopped down on his rear end, and rolled lazily over onto his back. The smooth fabric of the sheets provided a familiar, comfortable sensation, but he was entirely too distracted by the unnerving position in which he found himself. Though feral creatures were naturally accustomed to habitual nudity, intentionally exposing one's underside was an entirely different matter. It felt foreign, foolish, and profoundly unsafe -- remnants of bygone ancestral times in which baring one's sensitive areas could result in disembowelment by a predator or a fierce competitor. Lying motionless with his paws dangling awkwardly in the air certainly_felt_ submissive... so he supposed that meant he was portraying the role accurately.

"What exactly are you going to do?" Sylvian questioned timidly, gazing at Indie across the length of his torso. He was excruciatingly aware of the fact that his backside was aimed directly at her, affording her an unobstructed view of the tender ring of flesh nestled snugly between his cheeks. Definitely not a portion of his body that he generally desired to flaunt.

"Well, you said you were interested in 'butt stuff'," she teased. "So I figured I'd give you some special treatment under the tail." She illustrated her proposition by licking her lips and aiming a sly wink at her mate.

It took a moment for comprehension to descend upon the fox, who already felt especially vulnerable with his rump bared to the wolf standing imposingly before him. "Ohh... you mean--? Indie, I don't know..." he pleaded uncertainly. "That's not really what I had in mind." It took a fair amount of effort not to instinctively block his pucker from view with his bushy tail.

"Hey, you've done it to me before," Indie shrugged nonchalantly, her wings fluttering faintly with the movement. "I bet you'll love it. Just because you're a guy doesn't mean a tongue won't feel great down there."

Sylvian regarded her doubtfully, wrinkling his nose. "I've done it to you_once_ before," he clarified. "And it was okay. I wouldn't say that I loved it..."

"You weren't on the receiving end, though," Indie replied with an impish grin. "And I have no problem being the one doing the rimming." Sylvian remained silent, so the charcoal-furred wolf took this as an indication to continue. "Look, sweetie -- I know it sounds weird, but the last thing I want is for you to be uncomfortable. If you don't like it, we'll stop right away. Okay? But for now, you've got to trust me on this." She approached the prostrate fox softly, her paws leaving divots in the wrinkled bedsheets as she padded forth, halting such that she hovered directly above his muzzle. "Can you trust me?"

Sylvian's trepidation seemed to instantly disintegrate, melting away underneath a resurgent swell of affection. "Yeah, love. I trust you," he confirmed, craning his neck forward to place a delicate lick upon her nose.

This was all the confirmation that Indie required. She flashed a reassuring smile toward her mate in an effort to further soothe his anxiety, then abruptly turned tail and hunkered down in front of the fox's splayed hindquarters. Though Indie realized that Sylvian was still struggling to fully overcome his insecurities, she had faith that the reluctant male would swiftly warm up to her ministrations once he experienced the abundant pleasure at stake. His virgin tailhole represented a well of untapped potential that, prior to this surprising turn of events, had been neglected entirely. It was time to expose exactly what Sylvian had been missing out on.

"Now, like I said," came a precautionary reminder from the female wolf. "If you're really not comfortable with this, or it doesn't feel good, I can stop any time. Just let me know." The couple's eyes met, and Indie swore she perceived the briefest flash of excitement burgeoning below the surface of Sylvian's nervous expression. "Otherwise -- sit back and enjoy the ride."

Indie redirected her attention to the opposite end of her mate's body. Sylvian's furry posterior rested merely a few inches in front of her nose, hind legs suspended obediently up in the air to grant her access to the intimate region beneath his tail. Poking out prominently from between his haunches was the plump bulge of his sheath, accompanied by a pair of dangling orbs housed inside a fuzzy scrotum. Though Sylvian wasn't currently sporting an erection, Indie was well aware of the thick, crimson spear that would emerge when given the appropriate stimulation. Simply imagining it was already increasing her arousal, but Indie willed herself to exercise restraint; she would have been eager to fondle the fox's impressive equipment under normal circumstances, but she aimed to provide a unique brand of pleasure tonight.

She allowed herself a few moments to appreciate the tantalizing scene laid out before her. Since Sylvian's backside had previously been off-limits, Indie only ever observed the area underneath his tail in passing. Situated innocently between his furry cheeks was the winking pink star of his tailhole: firm, tender, and pure. Now that she sat in close proximity, Indie understood the captivating effect that her heat-laden scent had induced within Sylvian. As her nostrils inched toward the fox's puckered orifice, her senses were inundated with a wave of a sharp, spicy musk that skyrocketed her arousal. It was an untamed, wild essence -- feral, animalistic, and unequivocally male.

Without further ado, Indie buried her snout into the crevice between the fox's cheeks and inhaled a deep breath of the raw scent infused within his tangled fur. Sylvian flinched visibly as the tip of her cold nose brushed up against his fuzzy taint, and Indie glanced upward briefly to discover that he was goggling raptly at her as if she were about to perform some kind of barbaric science experiment upon him. "Relax, sweetie," Indie consoled him with a trace of amusement lingering in her voice. "If you tense up, it's not going to feel as good."

She was pleasantly surprised to perceive that the fox promptly obeyed her instructions, pacifying his nerves with a shaky breath and willing himself to unclench his muscles. Indie had expected to encounter a notable degree of resistance from her mate, who was obviously still concerned about the prospect of a tongue delving underneath his tail -- but perhaps he was more committed to this act than she had anticipated. Though Indie vowed to be gentle and encouraging, this sexual encounter would also require Sylvian's earnest participation if he wished to gain anything from it; it was relieving to see that he was holding up his end of the bargain. His body language became less stiff and more inviting as he concentrated fervently on playing a submissive, obedient role.

Indie once again burrowed her snout between Sylvian's buttocks, this time extending her tongue forth and swiping delicately across the furrowed expanse of his tailhole. She could feel the heat emanating from his taut pucker as she encircled it with the tip of her tongue, tracing over its various ridges and grooves before gently caressing its wrinkled center. Sylvian responded instinctually to the initial touch, unconsciously clenching his muscles before reminding himself that he had been advised to relax. With her tongue pressing directly up against the fox's sensitive opening, Indie registered the tightness receding, indicating that Sylvian had once again mastered the urge to tense up and reject any intrusions beneath his tail.

Like an experienced artist decorating a canvas with her trusty paintbrush, Indie exercised a variety of techniques as she burnished her mate's orifice with a thin coating of saliva, alternating between broad, expansive strokes and precise, purposeful jabs. The thick ring of muscle was firm and unyielding, having never been spread open from the outside before; undeterred, Indie resolved to slowly train it to accept a reasonable degree of stretching. Once Sylvian's entrance was capable of being penetrated without excessive discomfort, they could progress to the grand finale: the insertion of a sex toy. Sylvian would bask in the very same pleasure that the German shepherd at the park had boasted about.

Much to his surprise, Sylvian swiftly warmed up to the curious sensation of a wet tongue dancing around his most intimate region. It was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. Was this how Indie felt whenever he supplied her with oral treatment? If so, he was beginning to understand the appeal; a substantial swell of pleasure surfaced each time Indie's moist tongue dragged across his tender hole, and she hadn't even initiated any actual penetration yet. The pointed tip of Sylvian's crimson shaft had emerged from the confines of his furry sheath, coaxed forth by the forbidden thrill of anal stimulation. A strand of watery pre-cum glistened as it dribbled down his hardening length, oozing down his sheath and settling into the tousled silver fur of his underside.

Having thoroughly lubricated the fox's sensitive hole, Indie adopted a slightly more aggressive approach, using the tip of her tongue to apply small amounts of pressure against the sturdy ring of muscle. She acted with painstaking precision and care in order to minimize the pain of anal stretching, especially considering her mate's virgin status -- but if he yearned to wedge a knotted canine dildo underneath that tail, he eventually needed to become accustomed to the sensation one way or another. As the she-wolf slurped at Sylvian's pucker with a little more persistence, she perceived the stubborn muscles relenting ever so slightly, spreading open just a fraction under the assertive actions of her tongue.

"Oh...!" A localized pinching sensation caused the fox to release a little squeak of surprise. Indie had finally penetrated his rear, slipping her tongue just past the point at which his muscles began to fiercely protest the intrusion. An irritated stinging feeling converged upon the location, eliciting a brief wince from the submissive male, but he doggedly persevered by remaining still and maintaining a relaxed posture. Though the moment of penetration had been exceedingly uncomfortable, he'd at least been anticipating it -- and in fact, it wasn't nearly as traumatizing as his worst suspicions had suggested. Indie's tongue was already soothing the lingering ache as she massaged her mate's tender pucker delicately, gingerly inching forth into his untouched depths.

Preoccupied as she was with passionately servicing her mate's rear, Indie couldn't help but smile in amusement. Sylvian had been so incredibly hesitant to engage in this behavior due to preconceived stigmas -- yet the silly fox was melting like butter within moments of having a tongue under his tail. They'd been mated for long enough that Indie could analyze Sylvian's mood fairly accurately by observing his mannerisms, and in this instance, it was evident that his indulgence had swiftly snuffed out his fear. The telltale flash of red peeking out from his sheath was a surefire indication that he was savoring this intimate adventure nearly as much as she was. He'd scarcely even flinched when she broke through the tight seal of his tailhole; considering the blatant unease he had exhibited earlier, his positive response to the act itself was an impressive breakthrough.

Having applied a generous amount of lubrication and stretching, Indie encountered noticeably less opposition as she pressed onward. She began rigorously kneading the fox's obstinate sphincter with the tip of her tongue, spreading it open incrementally with each deliberate massaging motion. Though her primary intention was to alleviate the virginal tightness of his narrow passage, it came with an additional side-effect: Sylvian was undoubtedly reveling in the vigorous stimulation of his backside, having wholly relinquished any objections he previously held about the concept of a passionate rimming. His posture was tranquil and care-free, his limbs splayed limply outward and his chin resting lazily against his chest as he observed his mate servicing an area of his body that he'd previously safeguarded defensively. Indie noticed a conspicuous difference in his behavior simply by the feel of his warm pucker against her slippery tongue -- it was no longer taut and inflexible, the stiffness having vanished alongside the tension and anxiety that had initially plagued Sylvian.

After an extended session of suckling energetically at the fox's receptive rear, Indie discovered that his entrance could be pried open to accommodate most of her tongue with relative ease. She utilized this opportunity to probe further into his depths, assertively sliding her saliva-slickened appendage into his warm orifice until she could proceed no further. Sylvian's tailhole twitched involuntarily as it expanded around her tongue to form a glistening 'O', and Indie momentarily suffered a pang of regret as she felt her mate squirm in response to her audacious advance -- perhaps she had overstepped his boundaries by spreading him open too abruptly? Yet a soft "Aaah..." from above indicated otherwise. An audible moan! Sylvian scarcely ever vocalized his pleasure, even during aggressive mating displays in which he represented the dominant partner. Now this was progress.

Spurred on by Sylvian's outward gratification, Indie renewed her ministrations with vigor, only halting once undoubtedly convinced that the fox's tailhole was prepared for the insertion of a thicker, less malleable phallic object. She had diligently trained the stubborn muscles that perpetually sought to force out her intrusive tongue -- all she could do now was slather the sex toy in a lavish coating of lube and hope that Sylvian could tolerate the additional anal stretching. Accommodating a smooth, moist tongue was certainly impressive, given his inexperienced status... but withstanding an onslaught from anything larger could prove to be an insurmountable challenge for his newly-deflowered orifice.

Indie dragged the coarse surface of her tongue across Sylvian's delicate entrance with a conclusive swipe before withdrawing entirely, her lower lip still connected to his rump by a fragile, drooping strand of saliva. She propped herself upright lazily, relishing in the musky aroma that lingered even after breaking contact with her mate's musky crevice. Much like the fur surrounding his orifice, Indie's lips and nose were slick with fluids, blanketing her senses in a carnal cloud of Sylvian's raw scent. In her heightened state of arousal, even something so simple was enough to make her loins quiver in anticipation. She abruptly became aware of an uncomfortably moist sensation seeping into the fur of her haunches, and she shifted sideways to reveal a sizeable blotch upon the tangled sheets. Evidently, though she'd been too preoccupied to consider her own arousal, her body had acted of its own accord -- her swollen vulva had been leaking steadily, making a mess of the tangled bedsheets below. Oops.

Sylvian remained prostrate upon his back, gazing affectionately at his mate from across his furry chest. Now that Indie had fulfilled her promise to bestow a wondrous introduction to anal stimulation, Sylvian felt as though their bond had never been stronger. He had revealed a fetish that he had carefully shielded from the outside world, having assumed that any erotic play underneath his tail would be embarrassing and detrimental to his masculine image. He had expected his aggressive, dominant persona to shrink as he offered his bare rump in a blatantly passive display -- after all, that behavior was typically only exhibited by needy females. Yet he still detected the urge to breed broiling beneath the surface as the divine scent of Indie's heat plagued his nostrils, a reminder of what awaited him later. He hadn't been emasculated at all; he had simply embraced a different facet of his sexuality. It was obvious now that his fears had been folly.

The sticky puddle of pre-cum that accumulated on Sylvian's belly was proof enough that Indie's persuasiveness had paid off. A throbbing erection jutted magnificently outward from his midsection, serving as a trophy his body brandished to flaunt its triumph. His tailhole felt curiously empty without the invasive probing of a moist tongue burrowing into it, Indie's warm breath spreading across the saturated fur of his taint as she delved deeper into his rippling tunnel...

"Well... how was that?" Indie inquired, sitting back on her haunches. Her tail curled around her paws, twitching back and forth as it reflected her satisfaction.

Sylvian blinked in an attempt to clear his mind. He didn't dwell too much on his budding affinity for rimming -- for now, he would repress the desire for an encore, instead focusing on the next stage of their encounter. If Indie's tongue had induced such vivid sensations, he could scarcely imagine the prowess of a knotted sex toy. Her advice had been spot-on... although he was somewhat hesitant to vocalize that sentiment, as he dreaded being chided with a smug, "Told you so." Yet he couldn't help but admit that he deserved to be reprimanded. Now was the time to concede that embracing his most secretive desire had been an overwhelmingly profitable decision.

"That was..." he began, struggling to grasp the proper words to vocalize his immense pleasure and relief. "Just...wow," he finished, his face reddening slightly. "It felt great. So much better than I thought it would."

"Told you so." The victorious smile plastered across Indie's wolfish features said it all.

The fox grimaced. "Yeah, yeah, okay... I was wrong." He glanced down at his pronounced erection, which protruded upward like a flagpole on the moon, a visible monument to his newfound fondness for so-called "butt stuff." A dribble of pre-cum was gradually leaking down toward his half-formed knot, and he reached down and halted its progress with his paw, smearing the gooey substance between his paw-pads absentmindedly. "I should have trusted you from the beginning. Sorry, love."

Indie chuckled. "Don't worry about it, sweetie. I'm just glad you came around eventually." She stood up abruptly on all fours, her paws sinking a couple inches into the ruffled sheets. "Now, I believe you mentioned something about a sex toy?" Indie flashed Sylvian a roguish grin, raising her eyebrows expectantly as she surveyed her mate's body language with interest. What a monumental metamorphosis he'd undergone! Mere minutes ago, she would have expected him to recoil in terror at the suggestion of anal penetration -- whereas now, he simply remained stretched across the center of the bed with all four limbs splayed out leisurely, shaft and tailhole both plainly exposed, appearing perfectly content and carefree. Nothing like a thorough rimming to relieve some stress.

Sylvian's eyes brightened at the mention of his innermost fantasy, and he craned his neck forward eagerly, gazing imploringly at his mate. "You, uh... you do have one, don't you?"

She snorted in response. "Of course I have one! I have a bunch of them." Indie stepped forth to the edge of the bed, then stopped, aiming a quizzical expression at Sylvian over her shoulder. "Do you mean to tell me you've never heard a buzzing noise coming from behind the door? I just used one of my toys last night, actually..."

"Oh..." Sylvian pondered, shrugging nonchalantly. "Yeah, I've heard it. I guess I just never really thought about it."

Indie rolled her eyes, the corners of her muzzle twisting upwards in an amused smirk. "You're not the most observant fox, are you?" She made as if to jump down from the bed, then halted when she noticed Sylvian roll over onto his side, as if intending to follow her. "No, stay there -- I'll be right back."

The silver fox obeyed his mate's command, observing in silence as she sprang effortlessly down to the carpeted floor with a muffled_thump!_, followed by a rhythmic pattering of paw-steps that denoted her progress to the opposite side of the bedroom. His ears swiveled upward as he detected the sound of a dresser drawer being wrenched open, and a subsequent shuffling commotion indicated that Indie had begun rummaging through her belongings in search of the appropriate sex toy. Sylvian had never intruded upon those particular drawers for the sake of maintaining privacy, but this development certainly made him curious about their contents. Judging by the length of time she spent sifting through them, Indie evidently possessed a much more diverse trove of toys than he would have estimated.

A wooden_thunk!_ signaled that Indie had uncovered the object she sought and promptly closed the drawer; Sylvian expected her to make a reappearance upon the bed, but the sound of another drawer being pulled ajar reached his ears, and further foraging ensued. A metallic jingling resounded across the room, further baffling the inquisitive fox -- what in the world was Indie retrieving now? He couldn't envision any additional accessories that might be necessary, save perhaps a bottle of lubricant... but he wasn't kept uniformed for long. Another thunk! indicated that the second drawer had been closed, and after a few moments of scarcely discernable shuffling noises, Indie's charcoal-furred form crested the side of the bed once more as she launched herself upwards with a graceful leap.

It was immediately apparent that the source of the jingling noise was the object Indie now held firmly within her maw: A red nylon collar, complete with a matching leash that had been fastened to it with a metallic clip. Sylvian recognized it as his own, although he hadn't donned it in years, having entirely forgotten that he even owned it. Indie padded forward and deposited it onto the sheets next to her mate's chest. "Figured you could wear this," she remarked, eyes narrowed in what could only be described as a devilish expression of lust. "If you're going to be the submissive partner, we're going to do it_right_." The words rolled off of her tongue with the smoothness of satin, leaving Sylvian with absolutely no doubt that she intended to thoroughly consummate this statement.

He opened his muzzle to respond with a sarcastic quip, but as Indie twisted her body to the side, he was struck dumb by the sight of a rather unexpected development. Sylvian had assumed that Indie had left the sex toy below on the floor, considering that her mouth had been occupied by the collar -- but a swift glimpse at her underside revealed that he was entirely mistaken. Dangling prominently between the feral female's furry haunches, glossy and bright purple in color, was a thick canine dildo, complete with a bulbous knot at the base that boasted an intimidating degree of thickness. Brown leather straps extended around Indie's midsection and hindquarters, locking the toy firmly in place beneath her.

"Wh--What..." the fox stammered in astonishment. "That's-- Is that a_strap-on_?" Intrigued as he was with the prospect of being penetrated by a sex toy, now that the real thing hovered imposingly in the vicinity of his defenseless rump, his stomach suddenly lurched with anxiety.

"Yep!" Indie exclaimed, her tone eliciting a trace of pride. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for an opportunity to use this thing. And look! It's_double-sided_!" She swiveled around such that her backside was pointed directly at Sylvian's face, flagging her tail to offer an unobstructed perspective of her genitals. He was instantly buffeted with a wave of that all-too-familiar essence of a female in heat, and his shaft twitched accordingly, oozing another dribble of translucent pre-cum. The toy was indeed double-sided; beneath the dark, winking pucker of Indie's tailhole, Sylvian observed that a second branch of the toy had been inserted into her vulva, stretching her puffy hole wide around its formidable girth.

A tumultuous blend of emotions washed over the silver fox as he eyeballed the apparatus affixed to his mate's underside. Foremost among them was surprise at the fact that Indie even possessed such an outlandish device, despite Sylvian never openly demonstrating an interest in pegging until mere minutes ago. His astonishment transitioned into an aching surge of guilt as he comprehended just how drastically he had underestimated Indie's tolerance. She hadn't just accepted what he perceived to be a niche fetish -- she actually shared this particular kink with him! What a thick-headed fool he'd been.

"I... I had no idea..." Sylvian managed to sputter weakly, still staring in bewilderment at the she-wolf's faux phallus, which Indie flaunted with a proud stance as she posed regally before her mate. His keen eyesight detected that its length glistened as it wobbled erratically beneath her, dripping with a sticky, translucent substance; it was reassuring to know that Indie had already applied a generous coating of lube. "Just how many sex toys do you_have_? Are there other ones that you've been waiting to use on me?"

"Hmm." Indie's eyes twinkled mischievously, her expression contorted in mock deliberation. "I don't know, sweetie. Just wait for next time and maybe you'll find out."

Sylvian wasn't sure whether to be excited or intimidated by that intentionally vague statement, but he settled for feeling tentatively aroused as he appraised the shiny, purple length swaying portentously between Indie's haunches. How odd it was to observe male genitalia sprouting from the loins of his mate, whom he'd only ever known as decisively female! Sylvian was so accustomed to ravaging her hindquarters with his own knotted tool that he'd scarcely imagined how it would feel to be on the receiving end of an intimate pelvic dance -- to have her hips slamming against_his_ backside, jamming that thick, rubbery knot into his tender tunnel... When he'd envisioned a toy being inserted into his rear, he never would have imagined that his mate might be wearing it.

Indie hunkered down at Sylvian's backside, the tip of her prosthetic shaft grazing unintentionally against his left flank; she perceived his paws twitch noticeably in response to its touch, although he didn't otherwise flinch, which was certainly a positive omen. "Alright," she commanded the silver fox, motioning toward the collar and leash next to him, which coiled across the rumpled sheets in serpentine fashion. "First order of business is to get that collar on."

He inspected the red nylon material with uncertainty, somewhat caught off-guard by its presence -- but he supposed that it_did_ exude a distinct impression of submission and obedience. Placing a collar about one's neck could potentially be construed as a fashion statement; after all, he'd attended gatherings in which other canines proudly displayed fancy leather collars, some even featuring freshly-polished tags emblazoned with their names. The addition of a leash, however, unmistakably symbolized one's willingness to relinquish control of their body. Though Sylvian was hesitant to fasten the mildly claustrophobic collar around his neck, perhaps doing so would further amplify the thrill of this adventurous endeavor. It would be a physical representation of his indestructible bond with Indie and the hardships she'd aided him in overcoming.

Sensing the she-wolf's studious gaze resting intently upon him, Sylvian grasped the collar between his forepaws, awkwardly unclasping the buckle and maneuvering it around his thick mane of neck-fur. A telltale_snap!_ announced to both ferals that the collar had been securely affixed in place. Sylvian glanced expectantly at Indie, awaiting her cue to proceed with the next step of their adventure.

"Good boy," Indie crooned in a slightly patronizing fashion, emphasizing undoubtedly who was governing the situation. It was a statement meant to sting, carrying connotations of a master-pet relationship... but that was exactly what Indie wanted. This was her opportunity to immerse her partner in a world of domination play, and she intended to take no prisoners with her approach. She would satisfy his intimate curiosities to the fullest extent by breeding his virgin tailhole like the swollen, needy slit of a fertile bitch -- much like he would have done to her earlier, had they not been dramatically sidetracked.

Indie leaned forward and grasped the handle of the leash in her outstretched maw, giving it a playful tug that jerked the prostrate fox abruptly forward, bringing the mighty purple dildo within a hair's breadth of his vulnerable rump. Sylvian released a faint squeak of surprise, his crimson shaft wobbling about with the force of their sudden movements. He goggled at her meekly, paws hanging limply above his chest, rendered speechless in the moment, excited and overwhelmed with a flurry of emotions -- and Indie couldn't help but swell with pride at his progress, for she had scarcely ventured to dream that this fantasy would ever be realized. Though her loins still smoldered with the visceral urge to milk her mate's shaft until his seed ran dry, witnessing him as an obedient bottom inflamed an entirely new arousal within the lustful winged wolf.This was a worthwhile indulgence, one that she hoped to establish as a routine pastime.

Indie planted her paws decisively into the sheets on either side of his chest, leaning forth such that she presided aggressively over her mate. For the first time in their lengthy relationship, it was strikingly obvious that the balance of authority had shifted entirely in Indie's favor. She demonstrated her newfound dominance with an intimidating posture and a prodigious tool protruding from between her haunches, physically subduing the docile silver fox pinned beneath her.

"Ready?" she hissed through clenched teeth, her hips hovering parallel to Sylvian's buttocks, bringing his saliva-smeared pucker ever closer to its inevitable rendezvous with the formidable purple behemoth. The fox nodded timidly, his gaze locked onto the luminous, silvery irises of his trusted companion... but he needed to vocalize one final concern before the action commenced.

"...Indie?" he blurted out, his tone betraying a hint of uncertainty. "What if I don't like it? I mean... what if-- what if it just hurts too much?"

"Then we'll stop," came the matter-of-fact response. Indie smiled reassuringly from above. "I'll be careful, just like when I rimmed you. If you don't like it for any reason, we don't have to go through with it. Just keep me updated on how you're feeling -- okay, sweetie?"

That was precisely what he needed to hear. "Okay, love."

"...But!" Indie swiftly interjected, reverting her focus back to the main event. She shifted such that the tip of the purple dildo flicked lightly against Sylvian's fuzzy scrotum, inching ever closer to the agonizingly vulnerable region located at the base of his bottlebrush tail. "I think you_will_ enjoy it. In fact, I think you're absolutely going to love it." Her eyes narrowed and she raised an eyebrow mischievously, her maw contorting into a devious portrayal of desire. "I'm going to stuff you full of this cock until you moan like the bottom bitch you are. You're going to take the entire thing, knot and all. And you're going to beg for more."

Sylvian's face burned in response to the raunchy banter, and he surely would have exhibited a prominent blush had he not been entirely distracted by Indie's next move. Without warning, she heaved forward bodily, closing the gap between their muzzles until their lips collided and Indie's ribcage pinned the fox's drooling cock uncomfortably between them. Sylvian's eyes widened in surprise as their saliva mingled, Indie's lips smacking softly against his own while her tongue flitted playfully against his pointy incisors. Their efforts quickly snowballed into a feisty oral dance -- a meandering tangle of tongues that emphasized beyond any doubt just how thoroughly both parties appreciated this opportunity. Sylvian couldn't recall the last time that they'd kissed with such animalistic intensity.

A curious flavor lambasted his palate, faintly musky and spicy, raw and sexual in nature -- was that the essence of his own backside still lingering on her breath? Her lips were damp with residue from the fervent rimming she'd provided him, and they emanated a distinct male odor that was both incredibly familiar (as it belonged to Sylvian himself) and strangely foreign (as he wasn't accustomed to getting such a large dose of his own intimate scent). Sylvian wasn't quite sure why he found this so appealing, but nonetheless, his arousal soared. He fought back against her onslaught with increased liveliness, closing his eyes and kneading her smooth lips like a sculptor massaging a doughy mound of clay.

His focus waned, however, as an entirely different sensation caught his attention. Upon lunging forth and passionately locking lips with Sylvian, Indie had also rammed her hips forward several inches, wedging her thick purple tool firmly into the fox's wet, exposed crevice. Its spade-shaped tip ground forcefully against his backside as Indie began rolling her hips in a rhythmic, circular thrusting motion. The slippery spear see-sawed back and forth, pinned between the twin fleshy mounds of Sylvian's furry cheeks, seeking the hallowed sweet spot hidden within. He endured a rough prod of the pointed apex against the underside of his ballsack -- followed by a noticeable shift as it traced a vertical line down his taint, aiming directly for the puckered indent that glistened invitingly in the pallid glow of the bedside lamp...

Sylvian broke away from the wily embrace of their tongues as the toy grazed teasingly against the periphery of his virgin entrance. He paused, concentrating on subduing the instinctual tension in his muscles. This was much more difficult than it had been earlier, as he now possessed the knowledge that his tailhole was about to be spread open much further than ever before -- pierced and plundered by a broad, firm, unyielding canine cock. He'd been on the opposite end of such an act before, surveying in fascination as his own sanguine tool breached Indie's supple pucker, which clenched and expanded around him with the elasticity of a rubber band. She had exhibited nothing but pleasure during those instances, releasing breathy moans and quivering with excitement. Would he be similarly stimulated? Or would his passage sting too violently, beleaguered and overwhelmed by the bulky girth of the toy?

He was about to find out. Having discovered her mark, Indie began urging forward, which Sylvian immediately perceived as a noticeable pressure burgeoned beneath his tail. Though the dildo (and his tailhole, for that matter) had been thoroughly drenched in lubricant, it was evident that his muscles intended to resist this abrupt subversion of their natural function. The tip burrowed snugly into the fleshy ring of his tail-star, spreading it open ever so slightly at the center, but Sylvian could feel his sphincter habitually clenching in an effort to forestall the intruder's advances. Regardless of how prepared he was to be on the receiving end of a good dicking, his rump had other intentions.

Indie was in no mood for a delay; the obstinate pressure simply accumulated as she redoubled her efforts, prying open the silver fox's defiant hole with a careful precision. Sylvian gritted his teeth and exhaled sharply through his nose as a burning twinge reverberated throughout his backside, evidence that his stubborn ring of muscle was beginning to succumb to the unstoppable force battering against it. Gradually, the head of the shaft wriggled through the taut opening, straining Sylvian's entrance wider with each painstaking movement -- and finally, the barrier relented entirely, allowing the slick purple length to glide smoothly into the fox's tunnel. He emitted a labored grunt as Indie hilted within him, the rotund bulge of the knot ramming up against the underside of his tail.

Fox and wolf alike remained still for a heavy moment, Sylvian huffing softly with his head resting back against the sheets while Indie straddled him from above, their hips intimately entwined. Sylvian's pucker seethed dully, unaccustomed to such abuse; amidst the discomfort, however, a curiously delightful sensation bloomed. The faux phallus was triggering a subtle spark of arousal that flickered playfully in the periphery of his consciousness. It was faint enough that the submissive fox momentarily questioned whether he was imagining things -- but no, a distinct surge of pleasure accompanied the abrupt intrusion into his previously unexplored passage. Could that be his prostate reacting to direct stimulation for the first time?

"You okay?" Indie inquired. She leaned in to nuzzle affectionately against the side of Sylvian's head, her warm breath dispersing into the coarse mane of fur around his neck.

Sylvian allowed himself a moment to recover his composure, then responded with a brisk nod of reassurance. "Yeah... keep going," he confirmed, returning her gesture by snuggling up close. Having surpassed the pivotal milestone of penetration, he could summarize his initial impression with a single term:weird. The abrasive sting emanating from his perforated pucker receded swiftly, much more quickly than he'd anticipated, in fact -- this left him with an awkward fullness in his rump that he'd never experienced before. The sensation of the toy spreading open his rippling tunnel, wriggling into his depths and grating teasingly against the tender flesh within, felt utterly bizarre and foreign. He supposed he would acclimate with time.

Keep going. That simple phrase was the signal that Indie had been eagerly awaiting; Sylvian had clarified that he wasn't suffering unduly and given explicit permission for Indie to continue. Now there was nothing to forestall the main event, nothing to keep her from plundering her mate's receptive rump with the enthusiasm and aggression of a dominant stud. She would fulfill his request -- she would keep going until his tailhole clamped down hard on that rubbery knot, his passage clenching and rippling in the throes of a violent orgasm, his seed pooling in messy white blotches across his chest... He might be sore for days afterwards, but he would be positively pleading for round two.

The charcoal-furred canine stirred into action, pulling back with her hips as she withdrew the toy with measured slowness. Its smooth length resurfaced gradually, glistening with a thin film of fluids, until only the tip remained concealed within the tight confines of Sylvian's rear. Indie hesitated on the brink of pulling out entirely, indulging in a dramatic pause -- she noticed Sylvian glance at her expectantly in her peripheral vision -- then drove forward in a firm thrusting motion, once again forcing the fox's virgin passage to consume several inches' worth of the prosthetic tool. The bulbous knot jammed into the depression beneath his tail, grinding roughly against the sensitive region with a substantial amount of pressure.

Sylvian emitted a choked yip, responding to several distinct sensations that converged upon him at once. Perhaps the most vivid of those was the electric jolt that surged through his midsection as Indie forcefully pegged his prostate; his shaft jerked involuntarily, ejecting a translucent spurt of pre-cum that dribbled down into the fur along his belly and mingled with the sizable puddle already accumulating there. This all but confirmed Sylvian's suspicions -- those vibrant tingles reverberating through his groin emanated directly from his prostate, and they felt_fantastic_. His head lolled back against the sheets and he gazed dreamily at the dimly-lit ceiling, drinking in this newfound euphoria.

Indie analyzed her mate's reaction, briefly concerned about the sharp noise he uttered when the toy plunged into his depths, but it was immediately discernible that his pleasure far outweighed his discomfort. The wondrous expression etched on his muzzle reflected the revelations unfolding in his mind. He clearly hadn't anticipated his first foray as a bottom to be so immediately gratifying -- perhaps if he found these sensations so delightful, he would also be enchanted by some legitimately rough treatment? Indie took this as a cue to cast away any hesitance and fully dominate her partner; she leaned down and hooked onto the nylon collar with her sharp fangs, using it as an anchor as she began rutting Sylvian's rump in earnest.

Another vehement thrust left Sylvian seeing stars. With Indie's keen incisors clamped down on his collar and her hips pressing snugly against his backside, the fox was powerless to do anything save lay motionless and endure the passionate pounding his mate had in store for him. Not that he particularly minded, of course -- in his current state, overcome by a salvo of new experiences, Sylvian was fully content to relinquish control of his body to a dick-wielding female. He trusted her judgment and sexual prowess, placing the utmost confidence in her ability to dish out pleasure while still remaining considerate of his bounds and limitations.

Sure enough, Indie withdrew the toy once more and promptly sank in up to the hilt, gradually working her way into a rhythm -- but not overly rushed, not harsh enough that she made him feel uncomfortable. Sylvian's pucker still smarted faintly with the stress of being speared by the business end of a knotted dildo, but Indie had provided him with enough lubrication that his muscles weren't excessively complaining. On the contrary, the repetitive pumping motions of the toy felt curiously satisfying. It was akin to the sensation of stretching one's stiff muscles after a good night's sleep; while it wasn't nearly as enjoyable as the spark that ignited each time the shaft scraped up against the volatile nub of his prostate, the periodic widening and contracting of his tailhole certainly contributed toward relieving tension.

And so the silver fox simply laid there and allowed Indie to manhandle him freely. Her haunches slapped up against his furry rump with increasing strength, establishing a consistent hammering motion as she bulldozed her mate's posterior with the full brunt of the silicone shaft. Sylvian became lost in the rhythm, much like one might become absorbed in the beat of an especially hypnotic song. The toy plunged forward -- that exquisite pressure materialized against his widened pucker, threatening to invade his passage -- a riveting shock wave of pleasure burned beneath the surface -- and then it culminated in lustful longing, as the toy pulled backward and left him feeling curiously empty, craving the next thrust that would inevitably come. It was the perfect recipe for driving a newly-minted submissive male wild.

Sylvian wasn't the only participant basking in a delightful glow, however. It was becoming progressively more difficult for Indie to maintain her fervent pace, as she too succumbed to the relentless sexual gratification. With each energetic thrust forward into her mate's tunnel, the opposite end of the toy pistoned in and out of her dripping hole -- perhaps not with equivalent force, but the heightened sensitivity induced by her heat made up for the difference. Its rubbery surface ground roughly against the undulating walls of her vagina, milking her tender tunnel in much the same way that a legitimate canine cock would, and evoking a nearly identical response. The pointed tip burrowed inward, gently ricocheting off the firm barrier of her cervix before being swiftly withdrawn.

In her hormone-laden state, it didn't take long for Indie's first orgasm to approach. Her grip upon Sylvian's collar slackened and she leaned across his body, panting breathlessly, her haunches quivering as she struggled unsuccessfully to maintain her rapid pace. Those familiar tingles welled up in her loins, spreading like wildfire, threatening to overwhelm her consciousness with their unchecked intensity. Her thrusting motions became erratic, increasingly disjointed and labored; despite her best efforts, it was evident that Indie wouldn't be able to power through her predicament uninterrupted. Another outburst struck her and she was lost to the intoxicating vibrations, practically collapsing on top of her mate as her legs wobbled unsteadily and her slick passage rippled and convulsed around the toy confined within.

Pinned beneath her shuddering form, Sylvian couldn't help but perceive the abrupt shift in Indie's behavior. He ogled her curiously, initially perplexed as to what had disturbed their rhythm... but the explanation quickly became clear as he identified the familiar symptoms of a bitch engrossed in a fierce climax. He had so often been the catalyst for such events, his hips knocking against Indie's haunches from behind as she tremored with a swift succession of orgasms -- yet this time, he witnessed the spectacle from a much different perspective. Sylvian was unaccustomed to being a bystander; it was somewhat unsettling to be relegated to a passive role, one where his actions had no effect on his mate's pleasure. His only option was to lay back and meekly watch the spectacle unfolding before him.

Not that he was complaining, of course. The silver fox couldn't help but don a mirthful smirk at the sight of Indie savoring her release. She had been so adamant that she would enlighten him about the perks of being submissive, yet she was too stricken by her own arousal to fully engage. Indie's thrusting motions had stalled out, dwindling from a repetitive pounding to an uncoordinated mess of shallow, weak jerking movements. Her haunches trembled unsteadily as she endured the throes of her peak, fulfilling her heat and yet simultaneously boosting her sex drive even further. She clung to Sylvian as if he were a life preserver floating amidst torrential waters, simply along for the ride until the indomitable convulsions subsided.

Her wings dangled askew, ears pressed back, tongue drooping from the side of her open maw --You know it's good sex when she looks like she just got swept up by a tornado, Sylvian observed inwardly. He vocalized his amusement with a quiet snicker... then froze guiltily upon realizing that he had accidentally attracted Indie's attention. The shaky she-wolf affixed him with a piercing sidelong glance, struggling to recover from the episode that had temporarily incapacitated her. She heaved herself upright, shifting back into her former position, with her forepaws planted firmly into the sheets on either side of Sylvian and her haunches pressing firmly against his hindquarters.

"So... you think this is funny?" Indie panted, her steel-gray eyes glinting like the mirrored surface of a well-polished knife. She leaned forward and seized the leash between her keen incisors, giving it an abrupt yank that jerked the submissive fox's upper body forward forcefully. The apology Sylvian had been on the verge of uttering caught in his throat, and he was rendered mute, once again fully subdued under Indie's regime.

Indie lowered her head until their noses brushed lightly together, her tepid breath dispersing across Sylvian's upper lip. It couldn't have been more evident that the female canine reveled in portraying her dominant persona. "I think I need to be a little rougher with you," she declared whimsically through clenched teeth. "Show you who's boss."

They maintained eye contact for a heavy moment -- Sylvian displaying a startled yet unmistakably docile expression, and Indie with her brows furrowed, eyes narrowed into twinkling slits. Though she still felt rattled by the intensity of her orgasm, Indie stubbornly resolved to continue her ministrations until her mate writhed in ecstasy beneath her. Amused by the way she helplessly succumbed to her climax, was he? In that case, it would only be appropriate to return the favor by "punishing" him for the insolence he had just demonstrated; a properly obedient bitch would never be so audacious as to ridicule the dominant party. Sylvian may have ventured into this predicament voluntarily, but evidently he hadn't yet learned his place.

Indie bore down upon him and began rutting his rump anew, initiating a sequence of swift, rugged strokes that thumped against the fox's backside with much less restraint than she'd previously demonstrated. The brief interlude in their passionate mating had left Sylvian thirsting for a resurgent pounding, craving the delightful sensation of that bulging knot threatening to finagle its way into his vulnerable passage -- a desire which was about to be addressed tenfold. Sylvian released a soft "Mmmf!" as the underside of Indie's knotted tool connected with the throbbing mound of his prostate, hammering it relentlessly with each vehement thrust. The shaft wedged into his tunnel with purpose, ramming thickly up to the hilt before being halfway withdrawn and promptly crammed back in.

His turgid cock drooled another glob of pre-cum down into the saturated fur of his belly, throbbing with need as it wobbled about with the momentum of their thrusting. The pressure accumulating beneath Sylvian's tail was undeniably more severe than before, and it wasn't difficult to discern exactly what that implied; Indie was no longer grinding that knot against his stretched pucker simply for the sake of teasing him. The rotund bulge lingered far too long at his beleaguered entrance, applying a consistently more dangerous degree of force... No, she intended to squeeze that knot past his waning defenses, locking their bodies together in a crude imitation of the standard canine mating tie. No more taking things slowly, no more forestalling the inevitable -- Sylvian was about to be aggressively knotted, pierced intimately by a rubbery replica, whether he was ready or not.

The magnitude of the sensations converging upon him made it difficult to concentrate on anything save the intimidating knot relentlessly pounding at his back door; each dynamic plunge left him breathless, speechless, tingling with pleasant vibrations that coursed through his loins like wildfire devouring dry underbrush. His tailhole would be unable to withstand these conditions much longer. The thick ring of muscle that had once steadfastly restricted entry now yawned passively around the intruder -- relaxed and unclenched, mutely accepting its fate -- much like Sylvian himself. The barrier preventing Indie's knot from slipping through was crumbling, offering up the last vestiges of its resistance. Would it hurt? He'd grown accustomed to the obstacle of penetration, but this was a new challenge entirely...

"Caref--ah... Careful with that knot," the silver fox struggled to choke out amidst a barrage of emphatic thrusting from the winged she-wolf. His stretched entrance felt as though it relented a little more each time the thick sphere of the knot slammed underneath his tail.

Indie snorted bemusedly. "You don't look like you're in much of a position to argue." Their thighs connected with a faint_smack!_ as she bottomed out within him once more. His furry cheeks cradled the knot almost lovingly, as if, despite any half-hearted objections he might utter, his body betrayed his enthusiasm. He wanted nothing more than to be roughly knotted in true submissive fashion. Perhaps she could even get him to admit it.

Indie yanked at the leash again, preventing Sylvian from laying back comfortably against the crumpled sheets. She held the nylon tether taut, maintaining her grip as she leaned in menacingly until her nose brushed up against that of her partner.

"Beg for it."

"Wh--what?"

"You heard me," Indie hissed, the close quarters exaggerating her sardonic scowl. "If you want the knot, you better beg for it. Show me you're the bottom bitch."

Sylvian blinked, gazing deferentially into the dominant wolf's eyes. So often they emanated affection and compassion, yet now they exhibited an unwavering severity that emphasized that her request was not optional. Having enjoyed countless instances of being the alpha male of the partnership, Sylvian was unaccustomed to pleading for what he wanted; on the contrary, a simple suggestion was often sufficient for Indie to happily oblige. This occasion was entirely different. He realized that she was deliberately forcing him to fulfill his erotic desires through his own admission. If he truly wanted this, if he truly yearned to forsake his stereotypical masculine role in favor of being ravaged by a thick, purple sex toy... he needed to prove it beyond the most miniscule sliver of a doubt. She wanted him to seal the deal -- to sign the contract with a vocalized confession.

His shaft gave an involuntary spasm, contributing another dribble of pre-cum to the messy patch on his belly. He could feel the flood within his loins beginning to recede with every moment they sat idle; he didn't want that tantalizing sensation to diminish, he_needed_ that wonderful release... The insistent throbbing of his over-stimulated prostate was an indication that his body was already begging for it.

"I... I want the knot," Sylvian divulged quietly, his visage flushing with heat. "...Please," he added for good measure.

"You do, hmm?" Indie responded with contrived skepticism, still affixing the bashful fox with that playful-yet-stern stare. "I'm not convinced you_deserve_ the knot. Say it like you really mean it!" She drove her hips forward with a mischievous little thrust, applying just enough force to plant her tip firmly against the aching nub of Sylvian's prostate.

"Ahhh..." The fox shuddered as if he'd just been zapped with an electric current of considerable voltage. "Please... please knot me!" he stammered, becoming a little frantic as the powerful stimulation provoked him into desperation. "I need all of it inside me... Tie me like--like the submissive bitch I am. Please, Indie. I want it so badly..."

This was his best attempt at begging, given his inexperience. He adopted the most beseeching, needy expression he could muster -- although truth be told, it was genuine. Sylvian legitimately pined for his rump to be crammed full of that broad, well-lubricated knot. Having surmounted so many hurdles already, while enduring a tremendous amount of stimulation along the way... each moment that he remained unknotted was agonizing. He yearned for that final confirmation of his submissive status, the conclusive_pop!_ that would finalize the ancestral canine mating tie. There was no going back once that bulge breached his tender entrance; it would remain staunchly embedded within his tunnel until Indie saw fit to disengage. And that concept pleased him much more than he ever would have anticipated.

Indie did not react immediately, and Sylvian feared that perhaps his hastily-uttered sentiments had failed to fully sway his mate. She maintained a critical gaze for a few excruciating moments, her pupils boring into Sylvian's skull like sharpened icicles... and then her muzzle split wide into a teasing smirk. "Well... good enough, I guess," the she-wolf declared with an air of whimsical criticism. "You'll learn how to beg like a proper bitch soon enough. Good thing you're going to get_lots_ of practice..."

Sylvian gulped, overcome with a twinge of excitement -- but any fantasies about the future were swiftly interrupted as Indie pulled back and plowed the rubbery knot directly into his waiting orifice. A dramatic crescendo of pressure flared up instantaneously, causing Sylvian to grit his teeth and fidget restlessly. Unlike previous instances, the unstoppable onslaught battering against his backside did not waver or recede. Indie held steady, jamming her hips into the submissive male's rump at a downward angle in a savage effort to bulldoze past his waning defenses. Her claws raked parallel furrows into the sheets as she strained and grunted with exertion; even with a substantial amount of lubrication, tying such an inexperienced tailhole was not a simple task.

Stricken by the raw force accumulating against his backside, Sylvian writhed beneath her, helpless as a rickety sailboat caught in a vicious maelstrom. The bed was an ocean and he was about to melt into it, to sink into a boundless reservoir of blissful vibrations. He was a mere passenger, entirely devoid of control... and it was positively_exhilarating_. The rampant power of that bulbous knot curled his toes, shortened his breath, tautened his muscles -- it was as if his body hummed in anticipation, teetering on the brink of what would surely be an earth-shattering climax. How had his stubborn sphincter not yet succumbed to the behemoth prying him open? How could the pressure still... be... building--?

The silver fox's strangled gasp mingled with an audible, wet_schlorp!_ as the knot breached his defiant pucker at last, propelled forth by a momentous thrust from Indie's quivering haunches. Sylvian's rump swallowed the knot like that had been its intention all along; his muscles clenched down erratically upon its slick surface, milking and massaging the thick silicone intruder as if were a legitimate canine penis. The insistent pressure that had assaulted his backside rematerialized with equal intensity inside of him, relentlessly squashing the vulnerable nub of his prostate. Vibrations like nothing the submissive male had ever experienced consumed him.

The rickety sailboat had been swallowed by the ocean, and he was thrown overboard into the watery abyss -- a whirlwind of pristine, inescapable pleasure -- and nothing else existed at that moment save himself and the toy grinding down on his prostate and the beautiful winged wolf panting above him-- He gazed at the ceiling without seeing, vaguely aware of the dazed expression frozen upon his features, consisting of the most curious fusion of wonder and euphoria. Virtually delirious with the fiery deluge of sensations that threatened to overwhelm him, Sylvian struggled simply to remain coherent in the aftermath of his first anal knotting. His ruby-red shaft twitched and convulsed rhythmically, and... and-- was he cumming?

A thick, gooey rope of pearly-white seed splashed across the bridge of his nose and he blinked quizzically, caught off guard both by the distance which he'd ejaculated and the suddenness of his release. Paws-free, at that! A watery dribble of cum squirted onto the tousled fur of his belly, followed by a magnificent burst that arced through the air like a javelin and blazed a burning trail of sticky vulpine seed from his chest all the way up to his lips. Its pungent flavor seeped across his taste buds, and for the first time in his life, he personally experienced his own brand -- but Sylvian hardly noticed, enraptured as he was in the throes of his orgasm. He huffed and choked out a breathy moan, overcome by the ecstasy flowing through his loins, each twinge procuring yet another eruption of milky cum that painted his underside with broad, white strokes. The pressure upon his prostate was endless; he couldn't help but squeeze and clench down repetitively upon that wondrous knot...

Indie gyrated her hips and pressed forward with a few feeble humping motions, generating as much of a rhythm as the knot would allow in an attempt to fully milk her mate's prostate. The transformation that Sylvian had undergone was astonishing; the feral fox she now observed sprawled across the sheets underneath her, squirming in a breathless frenzy each time her knot struck a bulls-eye against his pleasure button, was a far cry from the flustered, insecure fellow that she had consoled earlier in the night. She knew this moment would be forever archived as one of her most treasured memories -- her mate soiling his own fur with thick bursts of cum, crying out involuntarily with the most endearing little moans, his thoroughly-used pucker rhythmically massaging the toy that locked them together... This was a remarkable triumph for both of them.

Spurred onward by a surge of affection, Indie leaned across Sylvian's chest and united their muzzles in a passionate smooch. Hypnotized as he was by his inaugural knotting, it took the fox a moment to register that Indie's face had materialized above his, eclipsing his view of the ceiling as their lips smacked haphazardly together. Her tongue crept into his maw, and this seemed to snap him out of his reverie; Sylvian blinked blearily as the fog in his brain dissipated, then reciprocated with gusto. He reached his paws up to grip the scruff of her neck, pulling them closer together while their tongues engaged in a feisty duel. The thick dollop of pearly-white vulpine cum that clung to Sylvian's snout was smothered between their lips, giving each of them a fleeting taste of the fruits of their labor.

The brunt of their physical activities was catching up with the she-wolf; her limbs trembling from exertion, Indie lowered herself down until she was draped across Sylvian's underside like a winged, wolven blanket. A warm, moist sensation crept along her belly, alerting her that she'd just inadvertently pinned his twitching cock between their writhing bodies. With Sylvian's shaft firmly smothered in a gooey mess of cum and fur, each explosive volley of seed could do nothing but seep further into their already-sullied coats. Indie wasn't unduly bothered, seeing as they'd already managed to spread around a fairly sizable amount of bodily fluids and lube. This simply solidified their need for a thorough scrubbing in the shower afterward -- and if the bedsheets happened to be similarly stained and streaked with cum, then it would be dismissed as a necessary casualty. Dirty laundry and sticky fur were worthy sacrifices for a night of unrestrained passion.

Sylvian eventually withdrew from their breathy kiss to inhale a gulp of fresh air, his head drooping lazily back against the sheets. His orgasm had finally subsided, ushering in an afterglow that left him immersed in a haze of tranquility. He devoted his attention to Indie, content simply to admire the beautiful bitch who had bolstered his embarrassing fantasies and crafted them into this magnificent encounter. Their muzzles hovered inches apart, both bearing irrepressible smiles of mirth as their luminous irises twinkled in the radiance of the bedside lamp. They remained as such for a few peaceful moments -- female wolf atop male fox, both parties panting heavily -- one with the business end of a purple dildo wedged within his deflowered passage, the other with its counterpart prying open her heat-stricken sex.

Indie allowed her head to droop down until it rested on her mate's shoulder. Now that the adrenaline rush induced by their passionate romp had begun to wane, the she-wolf felt drained and exhausted, struggling to keep her fluttering eyelids open as she resisted the fatigue tugging at her consciousness. Sylvian's lush fur, albeit streaked generously with cum and reeking of wild sex, felt enticingly cozy and comfortable beneath her. A peaceful slumber would have been a distinct possibility if it weren't for the dildo still spreading her open, exacerbating her heat just enough to serve as a continual reminder of its existence. Every now and then, a surge of burning tingles traveled outward from her loins, sparking a shudder and flushing her face with warmth. Would her need_ever_ be fully satiated? She could hardly stand, yet her tender folds yearned petulantly for more...

Sylvian finally extinguished the silence. "...Wow." His chest undulated rhythmically beneath Indie, rising and falling like the tide, threatening to rock her into a dreamy stupor.

"Mmh..." she murmured in response, basking in the weary lull that had descended over the duo. "Sounds like you enjoyed that, huh sweetie?" Despite her palpable drowsiness, Indie beamed with pride when reflecting back upon how drastically Sylvian's demeanor had evolved over the course of the night. Knowing that she had instilled such confidence in her mate was nearly as rewarding as the lewd acts in which they had engaged; she couldn't help but grin and mentally categorize this as a shining personal victory.

"Definitely," the silver fox affirmed. He extended a paw over Indie's shoulder and began massaging her beleaguered muscles affectionately, kneading her charcoal-tinged fur with his pawpads. "It felt so much better than I expected. I figured it would be... I dunno, uncomfortable or painful. But it wasn't really."

Indie snickered quietly. "Maybe that's because you're a natural bottom?"

Sylvian harrumphed. "I am_not_," he retorted crossly, shooting a comically sullen glare at his mate. Truthfully, this notion resonated as a compliment with the vulpine male. Having pined to fulfill his mounting submissive urges for what felt like an eternity, the possibility of possessing a "natural" knack for it was surprisingly pleasing. Indie must have legitimately thought he played the part convincingly -- not that she needed to know how gratifying that sentiment was to him. She almost certainly suspected it anyways, but he wasn't about to vocally confirm it.

"Could've fooled me," chuckled the female wolf, her delicate wings quivering accordingly. She reached a paw upward and began toying absentmindedly with the plastic buckle of Sylvian's collar, dragging her claws along the rough surface of the nylon and jingling the diminutive metal clip that lacked a tag. "You were pretty good at being submissive."

"I did my best," Sylvian admitted, a little sheepishly. Sensing an impending blush due to a combination of bashfulness and pride, he strove to steer the conversation away from his accomplishments as the submissive party. "You were pretty amazing too, you know. I had no idea you could be so... rough."

"I guess I'm just full of surprises."

Sylvian didn't even need to glance at Indie to visualize the cheeky smirk that accompanied that statement. Indie gave a playful gyration of her hips in an attempt to accentuate her words, but halted stiffly as another debilitating salvo of warm tingles flickered into existence, triggered by the friction of the purple toy grinding against the inflamed walls of her inner passage. "Oohhh..." she hissed, involuntarily digging her claws into Sylvian's fur as an electric shiver traveled across the length of her body.

The measured caressing motions of Sylvian's paws slowed to a halt as he observed his mate, a little taken aback by the ceaseless demands of her condition. Though Indie had selflessly ensured that his wildest fantasies came to fruition, the silver fox recognized that she hadn't been given a thorough opportunity to address her own needs that night. He recalled the exhibit she'd offered during the brief journey upstairs, tail flagged enticingly to flaunt both holes... The inviting pose she'd struck for him atop the bed, undoubtedly desperate to have his haunches cradling her hindquarters, his crimson spear extinguishing the blazing ache in her loins like only a knotted canine member could -- a_real_ one, that is. Though the toy had elicited a single orgasm, it would require much more stimulation to fully placate a bitch's heat.

Indie's next question came as a surprise: "Is that knot ready to come out?"

"The knot?" Sylvian blinked uncertainly, his gaze migrating downward across his body even though his view of the toy was blocked entirely. The silicone behemoth had paralyzed him with pleasure as it entered his rump, but how uncomfortable might it feel in reverse? The sensation of a thick bulge being abruptly tugged from one's already thoroughly-used tailhole didn't seem particularly appealing. "Oh, um... I dunno--"

"That's fine," Indie murmured dismissively. Mere minutes after the conclusion of a heated romp, the fertile female's libido had already spiked tenfold. The usefulness of the double-sided dildo had dwindled; it was simply a placeholder, a substitute for the genuine touch of an enthusiastic male with the vigor and savvy to expertly manipulate her dripping sex. The toy could provide a broad, phallic shape for her inner walls to squeeze and milk, but it couldn't compare to the rhythmic force of Sylvian's veiny member prying her open, seeking out the perfect combination of jabs and thrusts to oust a series of frenzied moans. Nor could it provide the flexibility of a moist tongue gliding along her ripe folds with deft, precise strokes... his lips suckling delicately at her scalding opening...

The winged wolf raised herself up on her forelegs abruptly, earning a quizzical glance from the fox below her. Indie knew exactly what she craved now. Exhausted as they were, her body wouldn't permit her to rest undisturbed until her insatiable heat was snuffed out, beyond the smallest inkling of doubt -- so that was the only solution.

"You're gonna lick me out until your tongue is too tired to move," Indie grunted gruffly, inching herself forward until the toy slipped free from her swollen vulva, flopping down to rest wetly against Sylvian's underbelly. "And then you're gonna keep going for a while after that." She left the opposite end still securely embedded within Sylvian's rump. No need to bother removing it now; there were more important matters to resolve.

"Both holes," she clarified as she propped herself up on all fours, spurning the fatigue that flowed through her wobbly limbs. A matted tangle of gooey, milky cum clung to her fur where she had immobilized her mate's cock between them, only discernable against her snow-white underside by the sheen of the sticky fluids glistening in the lamplight. The impressive volume of Sylvian's ejaculate was a testament to the wonders of prostate stimulation; simply applying a little pressure to the volatile nut inside his rump had unleashed a harvest much larger than either feral could recall him ever producing. As Indie stretched out her paws stiffly, a loose strand of seed cascaded down and coalesced into the formidable puddle smeared across Sylvian's belly.

"After we're done... you're going to pound me into the sheets." Indie clambered across the fox's reclining form, swiveling around a hundred and eighty degrees such that her fluffy haunches hovered directly above Sylvian's awaiting muzzle. "And you better not stop until neither of us can move." She planted her hind legs into the sheets on either side of his shoulders and wiggled her rump playfully, curling her tail up and over her lower back in a blatantly needy gesture. From Sylvian's perspective, her body constituted a shadowy silhouette that contrasted markedly against the dimly-lit canvas of the ceiling overhead.

Indie's sensual statements sounded as if they were echoing from a mile away. Sylvian gawked upwards in breathless anticipation, heart thumping against his breast, his vision glued raptly upon the glorious spectacle looming before his outstretched maw. Her engorged vulva looked absolutely divine -- a scrumptious mound of supple flesh, charcoal in color with the briefest trace of tender pink peeking through at the center, its smooth surface gleaming with a glossy film of arousal. A dainty dribble of fluids drooped from its lowest point, threatening to plunge down onto the fox's outstretched tongue. For the majority of the night, Indie's heat had taken a backseat to his own indulgence, but now Sylvian yearned for nothing more than to burrow ravenously into his mate's rump and never resurface.

And the smell --oh god, the smell... The instant Indie pointed her rear toward him, Sylvian was blindsided by a pungent, musky aroma that utterly consumed him. His nostrils smarted with the irresistible zest of a receptive bitch whose sweltering vent ached to be plundered. It awoke the same bestial urges that flared uncontrollably each time he ventured near Indie's rump during her fertile season. Conscious thought abandoned him, leaving him enslaved to the desperate urge to hump away tirelessly until his knot wedged itself in her rippling passage. He would invariably succumb to another paralyzing orgasm, only this time the stifling warmth of her walls clenching around his knot would be the catalyst, coaxing forth an ample barrage of creamy spurts. And it would end with them panting in a breathless pile of fur once again, only this time her womb would be laden with the sticky exploits of their carnal lust...

It took all his conviction not to wrestle himself out from underneath her, pin her to sheets, and thoroughly ravage that heavenly backside. He couldn't focus on her words. Not with those perfect genitals lingering inches from his nose. Everything else might as well have ceased to exist.

Sylvian licked his lips and inhaled deeply, greedily savoring the exotic essence emanating from Indie's swollen orifice. He detected a subtler fragrance too, one that offered a raw, muskier spice. His gaze departed from her vulva just long enough to appreciate the wrinkled grooves of her delicate tailhole, taut and vulnerable in the shadow of her flagged tail. Prior to the night's activities, he might have neglected the winking star in favor of its neighbor -- but his appreciation for the benefits of anal stimulation had skyrocketed since then. Considering the elation that had enshrouded him when Indie serviced his virgin hole, he figured it would only be fair to return the favor. A comprehensive tongue-bathing would be in store for that perky expanse of puckered flesh... once he finished meticulously exploring the luscious confines of her vagina, of course.

Glancing backward over her shoulder, Indie couldn't help but smile at Sylvian's sex-induced stupor. Such a typical male canine -- his exhaustion had given way to drooling fascination nearly the second she presented him with a raised tail. His member, having wilted to half-mast in the aftermath of their coital bliss, was now nearly poking her in the face as it jutted magnificently upward from his underbelly once again. His actions would be primarily instinctual from this point onward; she couldn't reasonably expect him to act coherently after enveloping him in the ripe scent of her heat. The poor fox's brain was probably short-circuiting from the influx of hormones. She would have to employ an alternate method of guiding his efforts...

A metaphorical light bulb winked into existence as Indie recalled that the leash was still connected to Sylvian's collar. She dipped down and snatched its handle from the sheets beside her, clutching it tightly in her maw. "How does that sound, hmm?" she cajoled sweetly around a mouthful of rough nylon.

Swimming in a haze of arousal, the silver fox's reaction was quite delayed. He continued admiring her genitals for several seconds before finally sputtering, "Huh? ...Oh. Yeah, that sou--" But his affirmation was chopped short as Indie yanked abruptly on the leash, pulling Sylvian's muzzle forward directly into the furry crevice of her hindquarters. His lips connected with hers, his tongue digging right into that moist slit and scooping up a drop of her intimate fluids, while his nose butted up against the dark blotch of her tailhole. An involuntary whiff nearly had his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he consumed her intoxicating scents straight from the source.

Indie found herself likewise overwhelmed by the sudden contact of a warm muzzle against her heated nether regions. Her claws raked the sheets and she huffed out a shaky breath, barely managing to dictate one final command. "Get licking, sweetie."

Sylvian obliged with vigor, wondering how he'd ever gotten so lucky as to be mated to this wonderful wolf.